Maybe Just That Something
by Poesia-Raro
Summary: Abhijeet wonders what it is about her that makes him feel the way he does. Set after the episode 'Abhijeet In Coma'.


**::/Maybe Just That Something/::**

A/N: To be honest, I have absolutely no idea where this came from. After reading so much full-on fluff in the Abhirika genre, I decided I wanted to try something a little different. Like I always say... it's great if you like it, it's OK if you don't. :)

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Till today, he had no clue what it was.

Maybe it was the way her brows furrowed in a slight, intent frown whenever she did anything, be it measuring chemicals in the lab or adding salt to food. Whatever she did, she would do it with the utmost concentration, becoming totally absorbed in the task. So absorbed, in fact, that sometimes she wouldn't even notice him watching her. When she did, though, she'd glance up and smile shyly. Damn, that really _killed _him...

Or maybe it was the way she seemed to know everything there was to know, but never showed it until the occasion, or the necessity, arose. Of course, with Dr. Salunkhe around, that was pretty rare-

"It's done."

"Huh?" Abhijeet blinked. She was looking at him, her head tilted curiously. "Where were _you?"_

"Nowhere," he muttered, averting his eyes and ducking his head in an attempt to hide the fact that he was turning red. "What were you saying?"

"It's done," she repeated patiently. Maybe it was her patience- her incredible, unfailing patience, which was probably the main reason she'd put up with him for more than three years. But he couldn't help it- this wasn't something that came easily to him. But she understood that, just like she understood everything else about him.

She approached him and sat down on the edge of the sofa, handing him his coffee mug. He straightened up, wincing as the bullet wound sent a brief, stinging pain shooting through his chest. "Careful," she warned him, concern flashing across her face at once. "You aren't supposed to make any sudden movements, remember?"

"Yes, mother," Abhijeet mumbled, rolling his eyes, and she sighed. "Please, Abhijeet. I'm just trying to help here. You think ACP sir and Daya sir like being in the bureau when you aren't there? At least for them, you'll have to heal fast."

"Hey..." He mentally kicked himself when he saw the clearly upset look on her face. "I was just kidding. I don't like being away from the bureau either. It drives me nuts. Though by the time my week off is over, I'll probably have gone nuts anyway from so much TV."

That made her laugh. Maybe it was the feeling he got when she laughed, as though everything was a dream and she was the only real thing. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't even know she was beautiful. But then, he himself hadn't realised it until... when was it, actually? Hell, he didn't even remember that. Though of course, he wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to memory...

He snorted, and she looked questioningly at him. Hurriedly, he drank a mouthful of coffee as he searched for a cover-up topic. "So how's Dr. Salunkhe been? I haven't spoken to him since that day."

"He's fine," she said, and smiled slightly. "He misses you, you know."

"Dr. Salunkhe? Misses _me?" _Abhijeet snorted again, louder this time. "Now _you're _kidding."

"Nuh-uh." She shook her head, grinning even more broadly now. "He stubbornly refuses to admit it, of course, but all of us can see it plain as day. ACP sir was even teasing him about it this morning." She giggled. "Of course, that _really _annoyed him. It was all Daya sir could do to not laugh right in his face."

"Too bad he didn't," said Abhijeet with an air of mock-disappointment. "Dr. Salunkhe's reaction would have been priceless."

She laughed again, her curly hair swishing forward over her shoulders. Maybe it was the hair... God, that _hair_. If only he could, he'd play with it all day. He'd always found it fascinating. So fascinating, in fact, that he'd never really found straight hair attractive again.

"Um, hello? Earth to Abhijeet?"

For the second time, he came back to reality with a start, to find her staring at him in confusion. "Which world do you keep zoning off to?" she asked, her voice bemused.

_Go on, tell her,_ an encouraging voice, uncannily like Daya's, whispered in his head, and then the voice changed to ACP Pradyuman's, its tone patronising. _A CID officer who's captured countless criminals, each more dangerous than the other, and even killed a few of them, is rendered completely helpless by a slip of a girl?_ _Shame on you, Abhijeet._

Needless to say, the last line was in DCP Shamsher Chitrole's mockingly snide tones. He grimaced inwardly as he thought what the old man would say when he found out.

"Your coffee's getting cold, you know," she remarked, a hint of amusement seeping into her voice as she surveyed him through smiling eyes. "Can your telepathic travels wait until you've finished it?"

He quickly gulped down the rest of his coffee, which had indeed become quite cold. "Thanks."

She gave him an offended look as she took the mug. "I'm not a waitress in a coffeeshop for you to thank, you know. I'm your... friend." She rose to her feet and smiled down at him. There was something strange in that smile, and something indefinable shining in her eyes. Whatever it was, it drew him to it, steadily, compellingly. As she left the room, a part of him seemed to follow.

Maybe it was just the effect of spending more than twelve years alone. Abhijeet ruefully recalled how emotionally vulnerable that had made him in the past. In fact, he'd almost gone to the extent of-

He didn't want to think about it anymore.

His mind wandered to Daya. Daya, who'd had three failed experiences over the past fifteen years. He'd gotten over them quickly enough, but there was no denying that it had been painful for him each time.

All of a sudden, the memory of her anguished face flashed in his mind, her eyes glistening with tears that threatened to spill over any minute. A sudden pain, sharper and stronger than the one from the bullet wound, shot through his chest at once, and he quickly shook his head, trying to get the image out of his mind. Maybe it was this- the way he felt when he saw her cry. Such occasions were rare, it was true. When they did arise, however, it made him want to change the whole world just so it couldn't hurt her anymore.

_You're being stupid_, Daya's voice scolded in his head. _If you feel that strongly, why don't you just do something about it? She's not gonna wait around forever, you know._

Then again, maybe it was the strange emptiness he felt when he imagined how his life would be without her in it. Sure, one might argue that he'd managed perfectly well without her for most of his life, but now... things were just different now.

Through his musing, he heard her soft footsteps approaching, and a minute later she sat down at the end of the sofa, across from him, with her mobile phone in hand. "Daya sir wants to know where your phone is. He says he's been trying for half an hour and couldn't get the landline either."

"My phone..." Abhijeet reflexively reached into his jeans pocket, but found no phone there. He looked around the room, but there was no sign of it. "Where did I leave it?"

"Maybe in your room?" she suggested, and got up. "Mind if I go check?"

"Go ahead," he told her, and went to check the landline. As he had suspected, it wasn't properly placed. He adjusted it, just as she came back into the hall and handed him his mobile. "No wonder you didn't know where it was. It was on vibrate."

Glancing at the screen, he winced as he saw no less than nine missed calls and fourteen text messages from Daya. "He's going to kill me when I see him."

"Seeing as how he'll be coming here soon, I'd say you have about two or three hours to live, then," she chuckled. "Better make the most of them." They sat back down on the sofa, and she giggled suddenly. "Can you imagine Daya sir breaking down the door and attacking you? Because I certainly can't."

As she spoke, her hair fell forward over her face, and he instinctively reached forward. As her eyes met his, however, his movement grew hesitant as he slowly brushed the curls back from her face. His hand lingered over her cheek, and she lowered her gaze, a deep red flush creeping up into her face.

Then, all of a sudden, he dropped his hand as though her face had caught fire and looked away. "I'm sorry."

He felt a small, warm hand brush tentatively over his. "It's OK." Her voice was barely above a murmur. Her hand shifted, but he caught it before she could draw it away, gently playing with her fingers. Both of them were quiet for several minutes.

Maybe it was _this_. Just this, the fact that they could be silent and still communicate so much. Finally, her voice broke the silence. "You should probably take your medicines now."

"Yeah," Abhijeet agreed, and reluctantly let go of her hand. She went into his room once again, and he stood in the doorway, watching her as she took out a few strips of tablets from the drawer of the bedside table. Maybe it was the way she cared about everyone, regardless of her own significance in their lives. It was just the way she was.

She stood up, and felt a pair of arms slipping around her from behind. "Thanks." His voice was muffled by her hair. "For everything. If you hadn't been there that nurse would have killed-"

"Don't say that." She twisted around in his arms and leaned her head on his shoulder, her small frame trembling. "Just... don't say that."

"It's OK," he whispered, touching her face gently as she took deep, shuddering breaths, obviously trying her hardest not to cry. "I'm OK." He exhaled gustily. "Bloody hell, woman, don't start crying on me. I'm hopeless at handling it."

That produced a watery smile even as she reached up and hit him lightly on the face. "You can be a real git sometimes, Senior Inspector Abhijeet."

"Really? I had no idea." He gave her a quick, tight hug before letting go. "Now hurry up and give me my tablets so I can be back in the bureau soon. And you know you miss me in the lab." He leered at her, and she rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help smiling a little. "You really think you're all that, don't you?" she asked teasingly.

"Oh, I _know _I am," he drawled, smirking as she made a face at him and went out of the room, heading to the kitchen to get water. Maybe it was her capacity to feel a hundred different emotions within the span of a minute. Then again, that was a quality many women possessed, but it wasn't half as charming in anyone else, he was sure of that.

She emerged from the kitchen, holding a glass of water in one hand and his tablets in the other. He took them, flinching a little as the bullet wound stung sharply when he swallowed. "Ouch."

"Shhh." Her hand was gentle on his shoulder. "It's OK."

"Isn't that my line?" he retorted with a faint grin, which she returned. "Never mind, you can borrow it," he added as they strolled back into the hall. As they sat down, his mobile phone buzzed, indicating that he had a new text message. Pulling it out, he looked wary as he saw the screen. "Daya." He opened the message, and sighed theatrically as he read it. "As I expected. He just called me an idiot and asked why I even own a phone if I'm just going to leave it somewhere and not answer it."

"He has a point, you know," she admitted, smiling mischievously. "You should really be more attentive."

"Oh, yeah?" He wagged a mock-threatening finger at her. "You just wait till I get back to work. Then I'll teach you how to respect a CID officer."

"So sorry, Your Majesty," she said, her eyes wide as she clutched her ears in apology, and he laughed as she gave him her best lost-kitten expression. She really was adorable when she did that. Maybe it was these little displays of childishness, which more often than not made him forget all his problems at least for a while.

"But seriously," she said, sobering up. "He's just worried about you, you know."

"I know." Abhijeet smiled at the thought of his best friend fretting over him like a mother hen. "I'll play up the poor-little-wounded-me image when he gets here. He'll melt like butter left in the sun."

"For your sake, I hope he does," she agreed, a twinkle in her eyes. Then it was her mobile's turn to buzz, and her expression turned wry. "Oh. Salunkhe sir."

_Damn_. If the good doctor had been in front of Abhijeet now, he'd have dearly loved to strangle him. "What does he want?" he asked, hoping his annoyance didn't show in his voice. She certainly wouldn't like that.

She shook her head. "Nothing, just reminded me about the reports I have to show him tomorrow." Putting her phone away, she fidgeted for a minute before speaking. "I think I'd better go now."

Maybe it was the way she couldn't hide emotions to save her life. As she rose, he caught her hand. "What's the matter?" he asked sharply, getting to his feet as well. She swallowed, not meeting his eyes. "Nothing."

"It's not nothing." His fingers laced through hers as he took both her hands, and she let out a small sigh. Maybe it was the way she always reacted to every little thing he said or did... He could sense more feelings in that one sigh than he could have in an entire speech. Slowly, gently, she slipped her hands out of his and went to the door, her head bowed.

He followed, and as she approached the door, hesitantly spoke. "Tarika?"

She stopped with her hand on the door handle, and turned to look at him. He felt his throat go dry all of a sudden. "Thanks."

There was no reply from her except a small shake of the head, and she gave him a strange half-smile. Then again, maybe it was just that something, that something which made everything seem less significant when she was around, that something which he saw in her eyes every time she looked at him, and that same something which made a curious, warm feeling swell inside him as he looked at her.

When she left, he shut the door behind her and a slight smile lifted one corner of his mouth. Whatever it was... it made the bullet injury seem worth it, just to have her around. Suddenly, something striped blue and bronze, draped over the back of a chair, caught his eye. Going closer, he realised she'd left her scarf behind.

He smiled again, much more broadly this time. He wouldn't be missing her much now- she'd have to come again, some time or another, to get it.

**~THE END~**

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A/N: Honestly, this is not one of my best. I just thought, since I haven't written Abhirika in a while, I should give my readers something they'd like (which I really hope you all did.)

Well, whether you liked it or not, there's only one way for me to find out... review please! :)


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